Melodies, Lyrics and Magic
by Kiisu1L40
Summary: #7: "There were times when I thought this would never happen, that it would only ever be a dream."
1. Never Be Ready

_**Melodies, Lyrics and Magic**_

"**A melody is like seeing someone for the first time- the physical attraction, sex….But then, as you get to know the person, that's the lyrics- their story, who they are underneath. It's the combination of the two that makes it magical." –**_**Music and Lyrics**_

The title of this collection was inspired by the quote above from the movie _Music and Lyrics._ The last part of the quote also provides a theme of sorts for this collection of stories because Castle and Beckett are each great on their own but the two of them together is magical.

This is the first installment of what will be a collection of independent stories all inspired in some way by the lyrics of songs found in my music library. That's the plan at least.

I don't own Castle and that's perfectly fine with me because the people who do own it are doing an amazing job.

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><p><em>We'll never be ready if we keep waiting for the perfect time to come.<em>

"_Never Be Ready" – Mat Kearney_

The city was shrouded in dull gray clouds that afternoon. The warm, coffee scented air that enveloped her as she stepped into the café was a welcome respite from the unseasonable coolness and dampness that had swept in earlier that day, ahead of an oncoming storm. A bell jangled over the door, announcing her arrival and a quick sweep of the café showed that her father had once again beaten her there. He was waving at her from a table towards the back.

"Hey, Dad." She greeted him with a quick hug before sliding into the red vinyl seat across from him.

A waitress approached their table and placed two cups of coffee in front of them. "Two coffees- cream, no sugar. Let me know if I can get you guys anything else." She gave them a smile and headed off to another table, her long black ponytail, streaked with blue and purple, bouncing between her shoulders.

They both grabbed their coffee and took a sip, their eyes meeting across the rims of the mugs. They were both smiling when they lowered the drinks back to the table.

Long before she'd started associating it with her rather talkative shadow, coffee had been their thing, their shared ritual. Her years on the force had certainly cemented her caffeine addiction but she'd gotten her first taste for it years earlier in high school, when she'd started sharing a pot of coffee with her father every morning. Her mother had been a steadfast tea-drinker and preferred to start the day with a strong cup of English breakfast tea. Some of her favorite memories of the three of them together were those mornings, the quiet moments when they gathered in the kitchen for a quick breakfast before going their separate ways for work and school. Every morning her mother would look at the two of them sitting at the kitchen table with their coffee and shake her head lightly in amazement at the fact that her daughter, who was like her in so many ways, preferred coffee over her own beloved tea.

They both enjoyed their coffee in silence for a moment, seemingly lost in the same memories.

Her father was the one to break the silence. "So, how have you been," he asked.

The next several minutes were filled with small talk as they sipped their coffee and caught up. Her father told her about how he'd run into an old neighbor of theirs at the store the previous week and she told him the story of Ryan, Esposito and Castle's latest antics.

"How's Josh?" her father asked after a lull in the conversation.

She took a sip of her coffee to give herself a moment before she answered. She'd known the topic would come up eventually and while she hadn't necessarily been avoiding it, she had been hoping for a bit more time before it was brought up.

"He's fine… He's in Haiti, actually."

"Oh." Her father paused for a moment and a look of concern flashed across his face. "When did he leave?"

"About two weeks ago."

"And how long is he going to be gone?"

"I don't know," she replied with a shrug. "It doesn't concern me anymore."

He gave a small nod of understanding, reached across the table and laid his hand atop hers where it was lying next to her coffee mug, "I'm sorry, Katie."

"Well, there's really no need to be," she said and shrugged again. "Josh and I…it was good while it lasted, but it wasn't meant to last."

And that was the truth. Josh had been exactly what she needed when they met but, if she was honest with herself, she'd always known that he was never going to be her one. In the end, their spark had just fizzled out and they'd agreed it was better to let it go than to try to nurture whatever embers there might have been back to life.

"Before, when he decided not to go, I thought you two were working things out."

"I thought maybe we could," she said with a sigh, "but he wasn't happy staying here. Doctors Without Borders is the reason he became a doctor. It's what he's passionate about doing and the work he's doing there is important. I didn't want to be the reason he gave that up. He's helping a lot of people and they need him there."

"And what about what you need?" her father asked pointedly.

"I don't need a boyfriend to take care of me or to make me happy."

"I know that, but everybody needs somebody sometimes." He paused and gave a small sigh. "I worry about you, Katie. Doing what you do, it's tough. It'd be nice to know that you have someone who'll be there for you when you need them."

She didn't reply right away but stared down at the Formica tabletop in front of her without really seeing it. In her mind, she'd traveled back to that night weeks before, and was staring at the ice covered metal wall through a haze of ghostly blue light and her own rapidly condensing breath.

"_Thank you, for being there."_

"_Always"_

Her memories of that night were disconnected and hazy, almost as if it had been a movie she'd been watching while dozing off, but she remembered that moment clearly. It had taken her last bit of strength to turn to him and force those words through her numb lips, but it had been important to her that he knew how much it all meant to her. His answer, the repeated promise, had, for a fleeting moment, sent a spark of warmth through her veins.

"I do have someone," she told her father softly.

"Castle." He said it so easily, so casually, so matter-of-factly, that she looked up at him surprised.

"I read his books, you know, the ones about you."

"Really?" She raised an eyebrow, a bit intrigued, a bit apprehensive. She'd told him about Castle and about the books but he'd never given any indication that he had read them.

"They're not really about me, you know." She thought of her father reading page 105 of _Heat Wave _and felt the blush spreading across her face. "Castle just based certain aspects of the characters on me and the guys to give authenticity to the police work. The rest is just the result of his imagination."

Her father just nodded and gave her an appraising look.

"That may be so, but it's still obvious he cares a lot about you."

She bit her lip and stared down into the remainder of her coffee for a moment, thinking.

She knew that he cared. He'd proven that to her over the years with his words and his actions. She'd even been told the same thing before, but somehow hearing her dad say it so matter-of-factly was different than hearing it from Agent Shaw and Kyra Blaine and even different than hearing it from Lanie or Esposito.

"I care about him, too," she admitted softly, looking back up at her father.

"But there's something holding you back."

She nodded and ran a hand through her hair, trying to organize her thoughts. The subject of why or why not she and Castle should be together was not a topic she usually allowed herself to contemplate. Any thoughts of them together were usually shoved to the back of her mind and locked in the box there with all the others, waiting to perhaps be examined at a later date, sometime when she might be ready to consider a relationship with Castle and the consequences it would bring. Yet, somehow, discussing that possibility with her father right now felt natural.

"I feel like there's something between us," she started off slowly, "the potential for something more, and we both know it's there." She paused for a moment and took a deep breath before continuing. "I think we both want it eventually, but it's like we keep waiting for the right time, the perfect moment, because it's important and we have to get it right. If we dive in too soon, and we're not ready and it doesn't work out, there's no going back."

Her father nodded slowly, thinking over what she'd just revealed to him. When he spoke his voice was quiet but earnest.

"Just don't wait too long for the perfect moment. There may never be a moment that seems perfect at the time, but you'll look back and find that there were plenty of moments that you could have made work- moments that you could have made into the perfect moment."

He paused but didn't seem to be waiting for a response from her. When he looked at her, she was sure that for a second she saw an echo of the haunted expression he had worn in the months following her mother's death pass across his face.

"You don't want to have regrets, Katie," he said, his voice was rough with emotion but there was an intensity in his eyes. "You and I both know all too well that life takes unexpected turns. If there's one lesson I've learned from it all, it's '_don't wait until it's too late to say I love you._'"

Her throat tightened unexpectedly at his words and she nodded, not trusting her voice at the moment and not sure what she would have said if she could speak.

They sat there quietly, surrounded by the murmurs of indistinct conversations, the rattle of plates and utensils and the ever-present hum of traffic from the street outside, each lost in their own thoughts.

Love. For such a little word there sure was a heck of a lot to it. Did she love Castle? Her brain (or maybe her heart) supplied the answer automatically. Yes, in a way. She loved him like she loved Ryan and Esposito, as a friend and a coworker, a partner. She loved him as an author too, for the way he could weave words together and tell stories she could turn to when she most needed an escape from reality. But there was more to it than that and the kind of love she knew her father was talking about was a different question entirely.

Truth be told, she was probably already in love with him, or at least a part of her was, and she knew that if she let herself take a chance on the possibility of a future with him, she would fall for him and fall hard.

But was she ready to take that chance and let herself love him completely and let him love her in return?

She'd been willing to before. She'd broken things off with Demming so that she could go to the Hamptons with Castle only to be blindsided and a bit crushed when he'd shown up with Gina. While he'd been gone she had rebuilt and reinforced the walls he had managed to break through and then she had found Josh. And now, after everything she and Castle had been through since he returned, she felt like she had more to lose than ever if things didn't work out between them.

After several minutes of silence between them her father rubbed a hand across his face and sighed. "I'm sorry, Katie."

His voice pulled her out of the web of thoughts in her head and her brow furrowed as she looked at him, not understanding what had prompted his apology.

"For turning this into such a heavy conversation," he clarified.

"No, it's alright," she smiled at him and shrugged. "Maybe it's what I needed to hear."

They paid for their coffee and gathered their things, preparing to leave. It had started to rain during the time they had been in the café. The sky had darkened to the color of slate and the pedestrians left outside were hurrying along, shoulders hunched against the onslaught of the wind and rain. She hugged her father and promised to call him sometime next week, before they headed out into the storm and turned to go their separate ways.

She pulled the collar of her jacket tighter around her throat as she dodged the rapidly forming puddles and hurried to the car. When she reached it, she turned and caught sight of her father just as he headed down the stairs into the subway. Smiling softly to herself, she climbed into the car and shook a few strands of wet hair out of her face. Every time she had coffee with her father she left the café with the same feeling of gratefulness. For years after her mother's death she had wondered if ultimately it would turn out that she had lost both her parents that January night. But her father had gotten through it and she'd gotten through it with him and she was grateful for the relationship they now had.

As she pulled out into the traffic, she thought about what her father has said about waiting for the perfect moment.

He was right, of course. If she and Castle kept waiting for a perfect moment to come, they would never be ready to take that next step in their relationship. Waiting for it was just a stalling tactic. They were letting their fear and doubt anchor them in place, unable to move forward.

Their fear was valid, though. If things didn't work out, they had a lot to lose- their friendship and partnership and the trust and loyalty and understanding they'd developed over the past few years.

But she knew that there was also the possibility that they had even more to lose by not giving them a chance. They would miss out on the opportunity to have a future together that could be full of love and laughter, happiness and companionship. As her father had said, life takes unexpected turns and she knew better than most people that no one is promised a tomorrow. She and Castle had been lucky so far to have made it through so many dangerous situations, but how long could their luck hold out for? She knew that she would deeply regret it if something happened to her or to Castle before she was able to tell him how she actually felt or before they had a chance to see what they could be together.

However, not waiting for the perfect moment to arise was different than making do with just any moment and rushing into something so important. The fear of losing what they already had was holding her back but she wasn't going to let her fear of losing what they might become goad her into acting rashly. If they were going to dive in, the decision of when they were going to jump was one they would have to make together. It would be an important decision and they would have to make sure they were on the same page and prepared to deal with whatever the outcome might be.

So, as much as her father had advised against it, she knew that a little more waiting was necessary. She had just gotten out of a relationship and Castle was still unaware that the relationship had ended and that Josh had gone.

Right now, what she needed, what they both needed, was a little more time.

But as she drove through the rainy streets of New York that afternoon, she made a promise to herself that she was going to make sure they didn't spend forever waiting around for the perfect moment.

Someday they were going to take that chance, chose their moment, and dive in. And maybe they'd be diving in over their heads, and maybe they'd never be completely ready or sure about what they were doing, but they would be diving in together. They would be there for each other and they would have each other's back, always.

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><p>Credit where credit is due:<p>

-_"Don't wait until it's too late to say I love you." _This actually came from the TV Guide article about Castle with NF and SK on the cover. I think it was actually something SK said or wrote. I only got to read the article once and my memory is a bit fuzzy on the details.

- The song is "Never Be Ready" by Mat Kearney and I don't own that either.

I wrote this before "To Love and Die in LA" aired so I was kinda happy when Royce's advice was similar to what I'd written for Beckett's Dad.

This is the first thing I've ever gotten the nerve to post so if you have a moment let me know what you think and any advice or constructive criticism is welcome. However, please note that spoilers are not welcome here. The end of the season always has me on edge so even a hint of what's to come sends me into an anxiety fit.

Thanks for reading!


	2. Anything For You

_I didn't stop until the moon, where I picked a flower just for you,_

_And I fell down, to you, in a parachute of newspaper, rubber bands, tape and glue,_

_So you would see that I would do anything for you._

"_Anything For You" – Brendan James_

_ooooooo_

"If you could have anything in the world, what would you want?" His voice broke her thoughts and she looked up from the papers in front of her.

It was early evening and the bullpen was relatively quiet. Ryan and Esposito had managed to finish their reports and had already headed home but Castle had insisted on staying, even though the only thing she was going to be doing was paperwork. They'd closed their case that afternoon and normally, after this much time, she would have been a lot closer to finishing her report, but Castle had been distracting her and for once, he hadn't been doing so on purpose.

He'd been sitting there next to her desk quietly the whole time she'd been trying to get through the paperwork and strangely enough, it was his silence that was distracting her. Something about him today had been different. Not so different that it was worrisome but different enough that it was a bit unsettling. He'd been quieter than usual and pensive at times and now he was asking random questions with no preamble.

"Why are you asking me this, Castle?" she asked, glancing over at him.

"No reason, I was just wondering," he said, shaking his head and shrugging with an air of casualness she wasn't buying.

She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms, abandoning the pretense that she was actually getting any work done.

"You were not just wondering. You've been acting weird all day. What's going on?"

"My accountant is retiring and his nephew, Jack, is taking over the business so I met with him this morning, just to get acquainted and go over some things."

He paused for a moment and pulled at a loose thread on the sleeve of his jacket. She was surprised to notice that he actually looked a bit uncomfortable.

"He showed me exactly how much money I have and the total was kind of shocking."

She knew he wasn't bragging and that he really had been caught off guard by the figure, but she couldn't help laughing at him a bit. "You'd somehow forgotten how incredibly wealthy you are?" she asked, disbelievingly.

"No, well, yes, kind of. I mean, I know I have money and I'm never going to have to worry about my financial situation but I've never really paid attention to exactly how much I have. The money was never an incentive for writing, it's just a really nice perk."

She nodded, silently prompting him to continue.

"I have enough to pay for Alexis's education even if she wants to be a doctor or a lawyer or can't make up her mind and gets five different degrees. And that's really the only big, expensive thing I'm interested in spending it on. Now that Mother has the money from Chet I don't have to worry about her so much anymore and I have an emergency fund that can handle pretty much every worst case scenario."

He seemed to have gotten over his initial discomfort at discussing this subject with her. His words were flowing steadily now and he was looking at her instead of at his hands.

"I've already decided to increase my donations to charities but that still leaves a big chunk of money just sitting there in the bank so I've been thinking about what I might want to use some of it for."

He paused to take a deep breath and as he started speaking again, he seemed to be studying her as if he was watching to see how she would react.

"Jack had all these charts and graphs that showed where the money had come from and well, a lot of it has come from Nikki Heat, from the books and the movie and the increased sales of my other books from her popularity. So I was thinking that I should do something nice for you."

"That is completely unnecessary." She picked up her pen and leaned over her paperwork again, trying to get him to drop the subject.

She jumped back again when he reached over with startling speed and snatched the pen out of her hand. She glared at him but the look on his face was imploring her to listen.

"I sort of weaseled my way into your life and created a character based on you and you never really had much of a say in the matter. I never asked you if it would be alright and I never gave you the option of saying no. I went over your head and I shouldn't have done that. But without you there would be no Nikki Heat. I have no idea what I would be writing now or if I would even be writing anything at all."

She looked at him sharply, startled by that confession. He'd never mentioned anything like that before.

"The truth of the matter is I killed off Derrick Storm because I knew I didn't want to write him anymore but I didn't have any ideas for what I did want to write after that. I was totally uninspired and blocked but then I met you and, well, you know the rest."

He smiled at her and she couldn't help but smile back, thinking of all the times since then that they had sat here at her desk, in their respective chairs, talking about their cases and their lives.

"You deserve so much more than book dedications and a constant supply of coffee, Kate." He said it softly, his voice full of reverence and she wondered if it was possible he had somehow figured out that calling her by her first name made her heart beat a little bit faster and that when he used that tone of voice she had to fight the urge to tell him that she couldn't imagine her life without him in it.

"You don't owe me anything, Castle," she told him quietly but firmly.

He opened his mouth to protest but she cut him off before he could say a word.

"Really, I don't want anything."

"Come on, that can't possibly be true."

"Why can't it be true? I'm happy with what I have and I don't need anything else."

"Well, that's very enlightened and Zen but you must want something. And don't tell me all you want is to finish the paperwork so you can go home and take a nice long bath."

"I knew we'd already had this conversation before," she exclaimed, pointing a finger at him and trying not to let him see how amazed she was that he'd known exactly what she was going to say. "This is the same as when you were asking what I would do if I won the lottery, but you figured that out and you're already doing that for me. That scholarship wouldn't exist without you and really, it's enough to make up for you invading my privacy and annoying me."

"I'm really glad I could do that," he said earnestly, "but I want to do something else, too, something special, just for you. I'll do anything, just name it." He was looking at her, his eyes wide and expectant and she knew he wasn't going to give up and drop this anytime soon.

"Castle…" She sighed tiredly and rubbed a hand across her forehead. She could feel the dull pounding of a headache beginning behind her eyes and suddenly all she really did want was to be at home relaxing in a hot bath. Perhaps he sensed this because he stood up and placed her pen back on top of the file in front of her.

"How about I give you some time to think about it? I'm serious though, anything."

He bid her goodnight and walked off toward the elevator. She watched him go and debating with herself whether she should stay and do the paperwork or give in now and head home to that bath. In the end she compromised and gave herself a half hour to get as much work done as she could before she left for the night. She picked up the pen and forced herself to concentrate on the task at hand, but couldn't ignore the echo of his voice in her mind repeating "_anything". _

_ooooooo_

It was late and he knew he probably shouldn't be here. He'd known that when he left his place, and when he'd hailed a cab and gave the driver her address and when he'd followed that young couple into her building. And yet here he was, knocking on her door.

He'd left the precinct earlier and gone home but he couldn't stop thinking of her. Alexis had been studying and refused to let anything distract her and his mother was out…somewhere, so he'd retreated to his office and tried to sort through some of his emails, but it had been a lost cause from the start. He couldn't sit there in the same room, at the same desk, at the same computer where he'd written so much of Nikki Heat and not think about her.

In fact, she'd been on his mind all day, ever since he met with the new accountant. Seeing the money he'd made from Nikki Heat had been surprising but it wasn't the only reason he wanted to do something special for her. It had just been the catalyst that set off his train of thoughts.

She answered the door with a look on her face that told him she'd known it was him from the moment he knocked. She looked a bit annoyed but he knew it was mostly just for the sake of tradition and not an indication of actual irritation. She opened the door wider and stepped to the side, a silent invitation for him to come in.

He grinned at her and stepped inside. As he brushed past her he caught the scent of cherries but it was much more potent than the hints he sometimes caught while she was at work. Her hair was tied up in a loose knot but he noticed that it was slightly damp at the back of her neck and he smiled again, realizing that he had probably been right about her wanting that bath.

"So, what brings you here tonight, Castle?" she asked, closing the door and following him back into the apartment.

He stopped in the kitchen and turned to face her.

"I know I said I'd give you some time to think about it but in the meantime I've come up with some possible ideas to help get the ball rolling."

"Castle…" she sighed and sank down onto a stool at the counter. "You really don't need to do anything for me."

He made a shushing noise and pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. "Just listen to some of the things I came up with and maybe you'll change your mind."

She rolled her eyes but leaned her head against her hand resignedly, as if she'd realized it would be pointless to try to make him stop. He was struck momentarily by how beautiful she was just sitting there and gazing back at him. Most of the lights in the apartment were off but there were a few on in the kitchen area, creating a soft glow that illuminated the gold and copper flecks in her hair and made her green eyes sparkle.

He unfolded the paper and shook it open, clearing his throat before starting to read the list he'd created.

"A lifetime supply of wine and bubble bath, and not the cheap stuff." He glanced at her, watching for a reaction but she just quirked an eyebrow as if to say, '_Really? That the best you got?'_

"A weekend at a spa." She wrinkled her nose at that one and he agreed. That hadn't really been his best effort.

"How about a night out on the town? Dinner at the best restaurant, tickets to a show- Broadway, opera, ballet, the symphony… your choice." That one didn't get much of a reaction at all, either positive or negative. She just kept looking at him, waiting for the next one.

"A key to my house in the Hamptons for you to use whenever you want." Her brow furrowed a bit and she looked like she might actually have been thinking about that one.

"A vacation anywhere you wish to go- London, Paris, Rome, the Caribbean, Hawaii…or you could go back to Ukraine or to Russia, refresh those language skills, use that accent again…" He waggled his eyebrows and got a small smile and an eye roll from her in return.

"Season tickets to the Yankees." He thought he saw her eyes light up at that one but the next second she was studying him curiously.

"Why do you want so badly for me to want something, Castle?"

He sighed and folded the list again. He'd known all along that she wasn't going to accept any of the ideas he'd come up with and he probably would have been disappointed if she had. All the ideas he had were so mundane, so ordinary, so inadequate for what he was trying to express.

"Look, this isn't just about the money I've made from Nikki Heat, it's about… everything… I said earlier that I don't know what or if I would be writing now if I hadn't met you, but you've done more than just save my writing career."

He fiddled with the paper in his hands and glanced around the room.

"When I think about the man I was when I first met you, I realize I really don't like that guy. He was obnoxious and self-centered. I mean, I'm really surprised you didn't shoot me as soon as I signed that waiver."

"Oh, you don't know how many times I considered it," she said with a soft, teasing smile, trying to bring some levity to his uncharacteristic solemnness. He smiled at her briefly but continued on in the serious tone.

"But working with you and helping you with cases has changed things. It's one of the things in my life that I am really, truly most proud of. And I know that you're the one with the badge and the gun and the ability to arrest people, but by helping you and being there with you I finally feel like I'm making a difference and doing something important, something that really matters."

He wandered over to her bookshelves and absentmindedly ran a finger along a spine, feeling the embossed title on smooth, cool paper. He took a deep breath and turned back to look at her again.

"You've been an incredible inspiration, not just for Nikki Heat, but for me personally. You've inspired me to be a better person. Someone Alexis and Mother can be proud of and someone you respect and want as a partner, not just someone you tolerate and let follow you around."

She stood and took a few steps away from the kitchen island, stopping with her hands resting on the back of a chair opposite the couch. She was looking at him intently now, all traces of the tiredness he'd seen earlier vanished from her face.

"You've made me a better man," he said with a shrug, as if it were that simple. "I want to do something special for you because you deserve it and I don't want it to just be something nice. I want it to be something that you really want, something that will make you happy, because I want you to be happy. I want to make you happy."

They were both quiet for a moment, watching the other. His words seemed to hang in the air between them and reverberate through the silence of her apartment.

"That's really sweet, Castle, but you really don't need to do anything for me."

A soft light was shining through the windows and, while he knew it was the electric lights of the city that never sleeps, he wanted to believe it was the moonlight shining in, casting its glow throughout the space and reflecting in her eyes.

"Oh! I hadn't thought of this one before but I could buy you property on the moon!" He grinned when she rolled her eyes at him just as he'd expected. "I know it seems silly and useless but it's always good to have a backup plan just in case. If the Earth becomes uninhabitable we could be neighbors on the moon!"

She shifted to lean a hip against the chair and crossed her arms in front of her, unable to suppress her smile at his obvious excitement for living on the moon.

"I don't want part of the moon, Castle."

"Then, please, tell me something you do want. Anything." He was back to being serious again. She could see it on his face, in the way he was looking at her, like all he wanted in the world was for her to tell him something that would make her happy so that he could be the one to provide it.

"In fact," he said, walking over to her couch and sitting down, "I'm not going to leave until you tell me something." He adjusted the pillows and leaned back, settling in to wait. She had no doubt that he would do just what he said. He could be incredibly persistent and stubborn when he had his mind set on something.

She watched him making a show of fluffing the pillows and stretching his legs out under the coffee table and was struck by the vision of him sitting there, his voice and his presence filling her lonely apartment, and how right it felt. Having him here felt normal, comfortable, like that unidentifiable something she'd always felt was missing from her new apartment had finally been found. He hadn't spent a lot of time at her place, just enough for her to know that when he left the space would feel much emptier and austere than it had before.

In a way, his presence in her apartment tonight mirrored his presence in her life. He'd come over uninvited, turned her usual nightly routine on its head, surprised her with the depth and sincerity and emotion of his confession, found a place for himself and settled in for the long haul.

When he'd started shadowing her, he'd turned her normally controlled and ordered life upside down and she'd wondered how on earth both of them were going to survive long enough for him to write a book. But he'd proven himself and he'd become a part of the team, a part of her life. There had been plenty of moments, opportunities when anyone else in his position probably would have left, but he'd stayed, time after time.

And as she looked at him sitting there on her couch she knew that that was what she wanted. She wanted him in her life in every way.

"I want…" She had to stop to take a deep breath. Her heart was beating so fast it was making it difficult to breathe, difficult to think, difficult to speak.

"I just want you." She said it so quietly that she wasn't sure if he had actually heard her, but the look on his face told her he had. He looked stunned and as if he didn't quite believe what he'd heard.

They stared at each other for a long moment, hardly daring to breathe, before he stood and slowly moved toward her. He stopped just in front of her and she continued to stare up at him with wide eyes. He could see that she was just as shocked at what was happening as he was. He reached out to push an errant curl off her cheek and felt her let out a shaky breath as his fingers brushed against her skin.

He ran his thumb along the edge of her jaw and was surprised to see that his hand was trembling. He was so focused on her words, her eyes and the softness of her skin that he was unaware of his own body.

"You already have me. I'm yours; I've been yours for ages now." His voice came out as a rough whisper, full of longing and relief that his feelings for her weren't one sided.

She closed her eyes momentarily at the onslaught of emotions that rushed through her. When she opened them again they were glistening and a wide smile was spreading across her face. She let out a sigh of relief that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob before sliding her hands around the back of his neck and bringing his lips down to meet hers.

His arms went around her automatically, his hands settling on the small of her back and traveling up to slide through her hair, sending it tumbling down over her shoulders.

The kiss was soft and sweet, turning passionate and hungry, before falling back to loving and gentle.

When they finally pulled apart they were both breathing heavily, stunned smiles spreading across their faces as they looked at each other.

"Wow," he breathed, his hands still resting on her hips, unwilling to break contact now that he could touch her.

"Yeah," she agreed, her hands lingering on his chest, absentmindedly rubbing her fingers over the soft fabric of his shirt.

He couldn't help but lean in to press a kiss to her forehead, then each of her cheekbones and then softly on her lips. When he pulled back she glanced up at him, her eyes shining and a gentle smile tugging up the corners of her mouth.

"Just so that you know, I like the dedications and my constant supply of coffee."

"And there's really nothing else you want?"

"Not right now, no." She shook her head and then slipped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her again.

"If there ever is, you'll let me know?" She was able to nod once before he captured her lips in a searing kiss and they lost themselves in the sensations once again.

When they separated again, after what could have been several minutes or several hours, she grinned at him mischievously.

"You know, with my job and schedule, season tickets would never be a feasible idea, but if you happened to get tickets to a single game sometime I could probably find a way to fit it in."

"Oh, is that so?" He laughed lightly, his eyes twinkling.

"Uh, huh," she nodded. "And if the Earth does become uninhabitable, maybe you could just let me live with you on the moon."

He paused for a moment, pretending to consider it and then nodded.

"Yeah, I guess that could work, although, I don't know what the square footage is like in moon houses, we might have to share a room." He tried to look contrite but couldn't keep the smile off his face.

"I think I could handle that," she said and as she pulled him with her toward the couch, she couldn't keep the smile from her face either.

ooooooo

* * *

><p>I love this song. It's actually the third most played song in my iTunes. I highly recommend that you head on over to YouTube and listen to it. Seriously. Do it.<p>

I've got another one of these in the works but it probably won't be ready before tomorrow night, so happy finale viewing (hopefully happy, maybe?) and see you on the other side.

And thanks for reading!


	3. Signs of Life

It seems like everyone and all their first and second cousins have written something in response to Knockout and now here I am throwing mine into the mix. I wasn't going to but every time I sat down to work on something else all I could think about was that finale. Maybe writing this will let me think about something else for a while. Yeah, that's unlikely to happen. Can it please be September now?

This chapter's song is "Signs of Life" by Andrew Belle.

* * *

><p>-oooo-<p>

"'_**Cause all these doctors say that this is an emergency**_

_**I'd give my eyesight for a little bit of urgency**_

_**Or just some signs of life from you"**_

-oooo-

"_For a man who makes his living with words you sure have a hell of a time finding them when it counts." _

His mother had been right about him, as she usually was. He had made a career and a name for himself out of his talent for stringing words together into the perfect combinations to tell the stories he spun in his head. He'd never had any trouble expressing himself in writing, but in the real world it was a different story.

Sure, he could be charming and clever and he had a certain talent for talking his way out of or into things, but moments when it really counted, when it came to matters of the heart, he fumbled around blindly, searching for the right words to say, and usually came up empty. The difference was writing allowed for certain luxuries that real life didn't- the time to sit back and think things through, to play around with the choice and arrangement of words until he found the perfect ones, the ability to control how each person would react or the ability to change the scenario completely.

But this time, in this horribly real moment, he didn't have to struggle to find the words. They just came flooding out of his mouth as he cradled her head in his hand, his desperate pleas turning into a confession he couldn't keep to himself a minute longer.

"Kate, please. Stay with me, Kate. Don't leave me. Please. Stay with me, okay? Kate, I love you. I love you, Kate."

They may not have been the most eloquent combination of words, and if he was writing this scene instead of living it, he might have chosen differently, but his words were real and honest and in that moment eloquence didn't matter, even to a writer.

He had one fleeting half second of hope when he thought he saw a hint of a smile on her lips and in her eyes, but in the next second her eyes had fallen closed and her head rolled back as she lost her fight to stay conscious against the flood of shock and pain that was surely coursing through her body.

For a moment all he could do was stare at her as he kneeled above her, desperately willing her to open her eyes and come back to him.

He felt dizzy and as though his stomach had turned inside out and then disappeared entirely, leaving him hollow and empty, except that his chest felt so full of terror that he could barely breathe.

His eyes left her face and traveled over the shiny brass buttons of her uniform to where her limp hand was resting over the bullet hole in her abdomen. He could see the dark, wet stain spreading across the blue fabric and bright, ruby red staining the pure white glove.

The sight seemed to be the spark he needed to jolt him back into action. He gently moved her hand away and pressed both of his own over the wound, trying to prevent anymore of her life from seeping out of her. He could feel her blood, warm and wet, oozing between his fingers and he wished, not for the first time, that he had been quicker, better.

That he had been able to convince her to back off, like everyone had been counting on him to.

That he had realized what that flash of reflected sunlight was the instant he'd seen it.

That he had gotten to her faster.

That it was him lying lifelessly on the grass with the bullet in him, slowly bleeding out.

But he hadn't been able to and he had been too slow and she was the one on the ground.

He kept his eyes on her, oblivious to everything that was happening around them. All he was aware of was her blood under and around his hands and her pale, unresponsive face and closed eyes. His gaze traveled back and forth all over her, anxiously searching for a sign that she was still with him.

He only became aware of the people around him again when Lanie appeared before him and pressed a hand firmly on top of his, using her other to feel for a pulse on Kate's neck. He swore he could feel his own heart stop beating when it took her several seconds to find it.

Finally she looked up and met his eyes. "It's weak but it's there, just don't move your hands." Her voice was shaky and her eyes were glistening with unshed tears but she looked determined. He didn't need to tell her that he had no intention of removing his hands from the bullet hole. Lanie's hands were now pressing so hard on top of his own that he couldn't have moved them even if he had the will or the strength in his trembling limbs to do so.

He had no idea how much time had passed since the shot had been fired. His mind seemed to have lost the ability to process the passage of time. Each moment Lanie reached out to check for a pulse on Kate's neck felt like an eternity and the moment of relief when she nodded in confirmation passed quicker than Lanie could move her hand back to press on his again. There was a smudge of blood on the pulse point of Kate's neck now and it kept catching his eye like a large, horrible ruby pendant, bright against her pale skin. He wanted someone to wipe it off. She already had too much blood on her.

He didn't even hear the ambulance when it arrived, but suddenly there was another set of hands pressing on the wound and someone was pulling him away before he had a chance to fight them. Lanie was talking quickly to the paramedics, medical terminology sliding easily off her tongue, her façade of professional demeanor masking the inner turmoil he knew she was feeling.

Someone placed their hand on his shoulder but he couldn't take his eyes off of Kate to turn to see who it was. He could only watch as they slid the stretcher under her limp body and transferred her to the back of the ambulance.

He had thought that holding her in his arms in that freezer and watching as she slipped into unconsciousness, knowing that death would not be far behind, would be the worst experience of his life, but this was just as bad. Both times he'd done what little he could, but beyond that was helpless to do anything but watch and wonder if this was going to be her end.

His numb legs carried him toward the ambulance, unwilling to let too much distance come between them. Lanie still had her hands pressed firmly over Kate's bloody abdomen and the EMTs were working around her, gathering bandages and checking vital signs. He heard one of them radio ahead to the hospital, informing them that they had an emergency case coming in.

It was an emergency, _she_ was an emergency case, and yet they were all so calm and controlled, their movements and words coming easily as they prepared to leave.

In some rational part of his mind he knew that it was good that they were so calm. They could do their jobs better that way. They were thinking clearly and wouldn't make mistakes. But in reality, all rational thought had flown out of his mind the second that bullet had flown through the air and pierced her skin. He wanted some sense of urgency, an indication that they realized how important and special and irreplaceable she was.

The sun was still shining and the sky was still blue, but it felt like the world was crashing down all around him.

Lanie looked up and met his eye. She looked as though she was about to speak but an EMT slammed the ambulance doors shut, cutting her off and separating her and Kate from him.

His heart lurched as the ambulance sped away. He had promised Beckett that he would always have her back and that he would always be there for her, and he had kept those promises to the best of his abilities, but now she was bleeding and speeding away from him and there was nothing he could do to help her.

Then Ryan, or maybe it was Esposito, was pulling him away and shoving him into the back of a car. They peeled out, siren blaring, racing after the ambulance. He watched the rows of white gravestones flash by beyond the window, desperately praying to a god he wasn't sure he even believed in that it would be a very long time before he had to return to this cemetery. After several moments he noticed a slight movement to his left and was surprised to realize that Jim Beckett was sitting beside him in the back of the car. He was staring straight ahead unseeingly, his jaw clenched shut, his hands clamped in tight, white knuckled fists resting on his knees.

He knew Jim was living his worst nightmare right now. He'd lost his wife to these monsters and they had just shot his daughter right in front of him. They'd taken away the woman he loved and now possibly his only child as well. A sharp pang of guilt shot through Rick as he realized he'd left Alexis back at the cemetery. His little girl had just witnessed a shooting; she'd been merely feet away from a bullet cutting through the air with lethal force.

His mother was there, he tried to reassure himself. She'd take care of Alexis. They'd take care of each other. But still, he had to call her, had to hear her voice.

He started to fumble through his pockets for his phone but was suddenly reminded of the fact that his hands were covered in dark, sticky blood - Kate's blood, its coppery scent suddenly overwhelming in the confined space of the car, making his head spin and his stomach roll in a way the jolting speed and the blur of colors and shapes flying by outside the window couldn't.

He gripped his phone tightly, concentrating on the feel of the solid object in his hand and willing his urge to vomit to subside. Before he could press the right sequence of buttons to call Alexis, a sudden sharp turn almost knocked him sideways and he recognized that they'd turned into the hospital entrance and were screeching to a halt behind the ambulance.

A team of doctors in light blue scrubs had already sprung into action, transferring the stretcher from the ambulance to a gurney and wheeling it inside. His anxious hands scrambled to find the door handle and he stumbled out of the car. He had to see her again. It was his only thought as he raced after them. He couldn't be this close and not see her just one more time… just in case.

He ran into the hospital, only pausing long enough to dodge around an old man in a wheelchair. He didn't take his eyes off the group of doctors with Lanie anxiously running alongside them, but he couldn't see her. They were blocking his view.

He caught up just as they reached a set of double doors. A doctor stepped away to tell Lanie and him that they couldn't go any further and he was finally able to catch a glimpse of Kate's face. The image stopped him in his tracks. Her eyes were closed and her head was lolling lightly to the side as she was jostled by the movement of the gurney. Her skin was even paler than when they had put her in the ambulance and now had a greenish-grey tint that he desperately hoped was just an effect of the florescent lights overhead.

As the doors swung shut behind them and she disappeared from view once again, he couldn't ignore the thought that crossed his mind- that she more closely resembled the victims that ended up on Lanie's autopsy table than the extraordinary Kate Beckett he knew and loved.

That couldn't be the way he'd see her for the last time. It just couldn't.

He turned around and saw Ryan and Esposito and Kate's father rushing down the hallway towards them. Lanie had given up the fight against her tears and they were falling freely down her face. Esposito hurried to her and wrapped her tightly in his arms as she buried her face in his shoulder. Ryan leaned heavily against the wall, his shoulders slumped forward and his hands covering his face. Rick met Jim's eyes for a moment and could see the fear and worry in them. He wanted to say something to him but words were failing him once again. Even if he could come up with something to say, he doubted he could speak right now. His throat was too tight, his mouth too dry and he was too close to crying to be able to produce any sound other than a sob.

He turned back around towards the doors Kate had just disappeared through and remembered the first time he saw her. How he'd turned around to find her holding her badge up to him and the cute way she'd tilted her head as she spoke. Her hair had been shorter and darker then but her eyes had been the same. They'd captivated him, just as they had every day since then.

Later, he'd sat across from her in that interrogation room and told her she had gorgeous eyes.

And today he'd told her he loved her and watched those gorgeous eyes slide shut.

He needed to see those eyes again. See her roll them at him and glare at him, light up when she solved a case and shine when her lips curled into that beautiful smile that never failed to take his breath away. He'd even take the dark glint that burned in them when she was really angry. He just needed her to be okay.

Realization crashed over him as he stood there in that cold, sterile hallway, and if there had been even the slightest bit of doubt in him before, he now knew with absolute certainty that he could not live without her.

If she didn't make it through this, if she wasn't okay, then there was not a chance he would ever be okay again either.

-oooo-

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><p>Thanks for reading!<p>

Somewhat related side note: I've finally finished watching the season finales of all my shows now and after watching Knockout I was totally unimpressed by everything else. Either everybody else just failed to bring it in their finales or Castle has ruined me for all other shows. I'm thinking it's a combination of the two, although the latter seems to be the more prominent factor.

Also, Thank you to everyone who has added this and me to alerts and favorites. Finding those emails in my inbox makes me really very, very happy. I especially want to thank SilverStella, uwprincess, ekc293, chezchuckles, and phnxgrl for your reviews! I really wanted to thank each of you personally but none of the reply links are working. Anyone know what's happening there or know of another way to reply to a review besides the link in the email? Help me out, I'm still learning how things work around here.


	4. Twenty Years

_Another Knockout fic. Just what I kept telling myself I wasn't going to do. But before you run away maybe you could give it a chance. It's short and hopefully a bit different. _

_I've been working on this off and on since the finale and I decided to finish it and post it today because it's Canada Day! I'm not Canadian and I don't know how Canada Day is typically celebrated but I celebrated by watching some of my favorite Castle episodes and appreciating the talents of my two favorite Canadians, without whom I can't even imagine Castle existing. _

_Also, in case you were wondering, I still don't own Castle or the songs. They each belong to their respective genius creators. _

* * *

><p>-o-o-o-<p>

**"_Well I've been running from something,  
>Twenty years in the car<br>Down a road that's leading me nowhere."_**

"Twenty Years" - Augustana

-o-o-o-

Roy Montgomery sat at his desk and stared at the package in front of him. He held his phone in one hand, gun in the other. Warm plastic and cold metal. After all these years it had finally come to this, another ultimatum.

For almost twenty years he'd worked damn hard to be the best cop he could be, hoping that by doing enough good he could somehow atone for a sin he'd never intended to commit. But it was a foolish hope, delusional even, believing that there had ever been a possibility of this ending any way other than badly, for him, for her, for all of them.

He replayed her words from the brief conversation they had just had over in his mind and tried to savor them. It was the last time she would speak to him with a voice full of trust and hope. He knew he was going to break her heart the next time he saw her, but a heart broken by betrayal was better than a heart stopped by a bullet. If he could protect her one more time and keep her alive, it would all be worth it.

He'd known ever since he found her that night down in records, with that flashlight and box and that look in her eyes, that it was just a matter of time before his involvement was uncovered. The past and the mistakes you've made have a way of catching up with you no matter how long or how far you try to run from them.

The cards had been dealt, all those years ago. Someone was going to die tonight. There was no way around it.

Roy's eyes traced over the name and address on the front of the package as he went over the plan in his mind one more time. Someone had to die. That was the way it had always been. Ever since Bob Armand fell in that alley, bodies had continued to fall and would until there was no one left or until someone found a way to stop them.

Lockwood had made it clear: Beckett or his family. It was an impossible choice to make. But there was a third option, one that Lockwood hadn't considered and Roy Montgomery was going to make damn sure he did everything he could to prevent his family and his favorite detective from joining that long list of the fallen.

He needed to go, but first there was another phone call he needed to make.

Castle picked up before the first ring was complete and launched into the conversation, forgoing his typical friendly greeting.

"I tried, Roy, I did. But she won't listen to me. She told me we were through." He spoke quickly and ardently, anxiety evident in his voice.

Roy sighed, knowing that he was only going to be adding to his friend's distress.

"I know, Castle… but listen, I have to tell you something…"

"What is it? What's going on? What's happened?" The questions came in rapid fire and he could tell Castle was close to panic now.

"Nothing's happened," Roy reassured him, "not now…but something, something happened nineteen years ago… something that I was a part of…"

He could tell by the sharp intake of breath the moment that Castle realized exactly what he was saying and its implications.

"Don't hang up on me, Rick, please. I can't stop this. It's too late for that. But it's not too late to save her."

Castle didn't say anything but he didn't hang up either, so Roy began to explain. He told him how he'd been involved in Raglan and Macalister's 'incarcerations' and what had happened the night it all went south. He told him how he'd been covering it up ever since and how he'd managed to protect Beckett from them.

And as he laid out his plan, he sensed that the writer's anger had ebbed and was being replaced by understanding, which was more than he had dared hope for.

"She's going to try to stop me but you can't let her do that and you can't try to either. She's going to fight you but you have to make her leave. Please, Rick," he implored his friend, "Promise me you'll do whatever it takes."

Several seconds of hesitation passed before Castle agreed.

"Fine, I… I promise… but, Roy, there has to be another way. You don't have to-" Roy could tell that the enormity of the plan and its repercussions were sinking in and he could feel it himself as well, like a lead weight sinking in his stomach. Telling Castle made it real, made it impossible to turn back from.

"Yes, I do, and I've made my peace with it. It's time I answer for what I've done."

"Just give me the name, Roy. Tell me who," Castle requested beseechingly.

"I can't do that, Castle, and you know why. It'll get all of you killed."

He couldn't tell them, not now. That information was too dangerous, especially to someone as determined and unwavering as Beckett. But if everything went according to plan, they had a chance of ending it, not now, not soon enough, but someday.

"I'm sorry, Rick… for everything… Take care of her." Roy ended the call before his friend could say another word or say goodbye.

He stood and slid his gun into its holster. He could feel its weight at his hip, heavier than it had ever been since that night nearly two decades earlier. He grabbed his keys and the package and headed for the door, pausing for a moment to look at the picture of his family hanging in the entranceway one last time.

It was nearly his undoing. He and Evelyn had just made so many plans for the future. A future that now appeared to him like a dream upon waking, the details that had once been so clear and certain were fading and slipping away from him and there was no way to get it back.

He knew his detectives had their doubts, but he really had been planning to retire this time. He'd done the best he could do for his city and he'd wanted to see the world and spend more time with his family. His girls were still so young. They had so much life ahead of them and his son was just finishing his first year of college. He was making his own plans for the future and deciding what he wanted to be. They all still had so much to do and see and experience.

But he had to do this. It was the only way.

So he gathered his courage once more, closed the door behind him and walked to his car without looking back. He would have to hurry to make it to the hangar before Beckett did. Fortunately, there was a post office on the way.

* * *

><p><em>Thank you for reading and thank you to everyone who has reviewed and added this to alerts and favorites. You're all awesome. <em>

_Happy Canada Day to everyone but especially to any Canadians out there!_


	5. Sweet Thing

I once built a model of a castle for a history project and it was awesome but I don't own the show Castle.

I also don't own this song which is "Sweet Thing" by Keith Urban

* * *

><p>-o-o-o-<p>

"_**I held open the car door for you,**_

_**then you climbed inside and slid on over**_

_**to the other side… I thought my, oh my…"**_

-o-o-o-

Kate watched out of the corner of her eye as Castle appeared at the door of the break room and then hesitated. She thought he'd gone in there to make coffee but he was empty handed, loitering on the edge of her vision. Her attention was drawn back to her computer screen as a window popped up indicating her search had got a hit, but she remained mindful of Castle's presence as he approached her desk and sat down slowly, almost cautiously. She could feel his gaze on her as she clicked through the file on the computer but didn't acknowledge him until she noticed him trying to surreptitiously wipe his palms on his pants.

"You okay?" she asked with a glance in his direction.

"What?" he answered, seemingly startled, "Oh, yeah, I'm fine."

She narrowed her eyes at him.

"You sure about that?" she asked with a pointed look at his hands as he tried again to wipe away his sweaty palms.

He glanced around, his eyes darting to the surrounding desks, then took a deep breath before asking quietly, "Will you have dinner with me tomorrow?"

Now it was her turn to be startled. _Dinner? With him? As in a…?_

"You mean like a date?" She could feel her heart pounding as if she'd just had to chase a suspect through Central Park on foot.

A date was a crossroads, an acknowledgement that the feelings between them went deeper than friends or partners. It could be the start of something new and incredible or the end of everything they had.

"Yeah, of sorts," Castle said, watching her nervously and gauging her reaction.

"Of sorts?"

"I was thinking that we could see how it goes and then we could decide if we wanted to call it a date and maybe try it again sometime, or we could decide to call it two friends enjoying a night out and there would be no consequences and nothing would have to change."

Kate looked at him sitting there in his chair next to her desk. After everything that had happened, everything that had changed, her life had finally settled into some semblance of normalcy again. A new normal that was here to stay and they'd all adjusted to it, but it still felt fragile in a way. Like the smallest change could send it all crashing down again. Did she dare agree to try this now? Because as much as he wanted to believe they had the option of walking away afterwards with no consequences and without changing anything, they both knew that would be impossible. Either way something was going to change.

But maybe now was the time to take a chance with something else new. The recent upheaval had calmed but complacency hadn't set in. They hadn't yet returned to the trenches in their old stalemate of pretending there wasn't anything more than friendship and partnership between them. Long ago they'd dug and fortified those trenches and it would be easy to fall back into them and take up those positions again, where neither retreated and neither advanced, but they both sat, day in and day out, eyeing the no-man's-land between them and wondering what it would be like to surrender the fight.

All she knew was that all of that pretending and wondering and waiting were exhausting. And what was the point, anyway? Whatever this thing between them was, it clearly wasn't going away. So why keep fighting it?

She watched him, anxiously watching her, and thought that perhaps the time had finally come to take a deep breath and dive.

"Um, yeah, okay."

"Yeah?" His eyes lit up in surprise and he smiled hopefully.

"Yeah, I mean, as long as I'm not tied up with this case or anything."

"Oh, don't worry. I think you'll have it all wrapped up by then." He nodded to the computer screen where another search result had popped up, this one finally giving them the connection they'd been looking for.

"That son of a bitch lied to us," she growled under her breath.

She grabbed her phone and called Ryan to have him and Esposito bring in their new number one suspect and turned back to Castle.

"You want to stick around and see what he's got to say for himself?" she asked as she leaned back in her chair and enjoyed the spark of adrenaline and anticipation she experienced when a case finally started to come together.

He glanced at his watch. "Wish I could but I promised Alexis we'd make pizzas for dinner and that I'd help her brainstorm ideas for her history project." He smiled softly with a faraway look in his eyes. "She's always had the best school projects, ever since the paper-mache lobster in kindergarten, and now that it's her senior year it needs to be extra good, go out with a bang."

He stood and she followed suit, grabbing her empty coffee mug to go get a refill.

"So unless something comes up, I'll pick you up at your place at seven tomorrow night?"

"Oh, are you not coming in tomorrow?" Inwardly she cringed and hoped that had come out sounding more surprised than disappointed.

"I've got a meeting in the morning and then I thought it would be better if we didn't see each other until the evening, you know, let the anticipation and excitement build…" he trailed off with an easy grin and a suggestive eyebrow waggle.

"So, until tomorrow, Detective Beckett," he said, and with a tip of his imaginary hat, he turned and headed for the elevator.

-o-o-o-

It was quarter after seven by the time Castle's red Ferrari pulled up in front of her apartment building the following evening. He found her leaning against the wall outside with her arms crossed in front of her, doing her best to look bored and unimpressed by him and his car, though secretly she'd hoped that when he said he'd pick her up he'd meant in this car and not a taxi.

"Wow, ready and waiting outside. Are you excited, Detective?" he asked, climbing out of the car and rounding the hood to meet her on the sidewalk.

"You're late," she said with a pointed glance down at her father's watch.

"I know, but when I saw them I just had to stop and get you this." He leaned over to grab something off the passenger seat and when he turned back around he was holding a bright yellow sunflower. He smiled and held it out for her, but she just stared at it for a moment before lifting her eyes back to his.

"A sunflower?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes." He frowned at her unexpected reaction before a hopeful smile spread across his face and lit up his eyes. "Because you're the sunshine in my life?"

She rolled her eyes at his cheesy remark and pressed her lips together to suppress her smile.

"It's just, I would have thought that after writing _Flowers for Your Grave_ you'd think twice about bringing a woman a sunflower on a first date."

His smile faded as realization sank in. "Oh, yeah."

"Especially when you met that woman because someone murdered a girl and used her body to recreate the crime scene from the book."

"Right. Yeah, I didn't think of that." He was frowning at the flower now, creases marring his forehead, disappointment and doubt clouding the light in his eyes.

Kate sighed and stepped closer to him, feeling like a bit of a bitch, chastising him for what had simply been a kind gesture. Sometimes her nerves got to her, made her come off as a bit condescending when she had only meant to tease him. And she felt ridiculous for being nervous. It was only Castle. She'd spent more time with him than anyone else in the last few years.

She reached for the sunflower and he let her gently slide the rough stem from his fingers.

"But I know that reminding me of murder wasn't your intention so it's actually kind of sweet." She gave him a small, apologetic smile and gently ran her finger over a golden petal. The night wasn't exactly off to a great start but as she glanced back up at him she noticed him awkwardly shifting his feet and realized he was nervous too. They were trying to play it cool but they both recognized the magnitude of what this night could mean.

He shrugged and shoved his hands in his coat pockets.

"Yeah, it's just, I was driving by this flower shop and I saw them outside and they made me think of your eyes, because you've got these gold flecks around your irises, like sunflower petals around the center… I didn't think of my book or murder, just you."

She stared at him a little taken aback and silently cursed him for making her melt a little inside. _Damn, now _that_ was really sweet. _

After a moment she cleared her throat and looked away. She noticed her neighbor, Mrs. Adams, coming out of the building and smiled in greeting. The grey-haired woman peered at Castle through her bifocal lenses, looking him up and down and doing little to hide her interest. As she turned to head down the street she gave Kate a nod of approval, her eyes twinkling knowingly at the two of them.

…

Castle noticed a faint blush appear on Kate's cheeks as she watched her neighbor walked down the street and wondered what the older woman had done to make Kate blush like that. Then he wondered if it was possible Kate had ever looked more beautiful than she did in that moment, with the light breeze gently blowing a loose curl against her softly glowing cheek and the sunflower cradled in her hands.

He took a second to commit the sight before him to memory before he spoke and the moment slipped away.

"We should get going. We have a reservation."

She nodded and he pulled open the passenger side door for her. He held it while she climbed in and she smiled up at him in thanks as he gently shut the door after her.

The sudden screech of tires further down the street caught his attention as he walked around the car and he turned to see a guy leaning out the window of his car, shouting and gesticulating wildly at a cyclist who was ignoring him and riding away.

He shook his head and when he turned back to his own car, Kate was sitting in the driver's seat. She was holding her hand out for the keys, a grin playing on her lips and lights dancing in her eyes.

"What…But…I…" he started to protest but then gave in and, with a dramatic sigh and a scowl, placed the keys in her open palm. As he made his way back around the car, the pretense of a scowl was quickly replaced by a wide smile. _Kate Beckett was a constant surprise, and he wouldn't want it any other way. _

Kate grinned in victory as she turned the key in the ignition and adjusted the rearview mirror. She turned to Castle as he climbed in and picked up the sunflower from where she'd left it on the passenger seat.

"So, where are we going?" she asked.

"Just drive. I'll tell you where you need to turn."

…

Castle's directions brought them to a small Thai place in the Village. After expertly parking the car, Kate handed the keys back over to Castle with a thrilled smile. There was something about being behind the wheel of that car, feeling the power of the gas pedal under her foot, that made her blood rush and made her glad to be alive.

Castle reached for the door handle and paused, his fingers resting on the latch while he fiddled with the keys in his other hand.

"Is this alright? You do like Thai food, don't you? If not we can go somewhere else. Anywhere else. Wherever you want." He spoke quickly, his words and sentences running together and she almost laughed at him. She was so used to him being cool and confident that his flustered nervousness was kind of adorable.

"This is fine, Castle," she assured him, "I love Thai food."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Okay then."

…

The restaurant was full but not crowded and they were seated at a table upstairs, the enticing scent of rice, cooking meat and spices wafting up from the kitchen below. Kate looked around at the soft honey colored walls adorned with bright pictures of a Thai fishing village. A beautifully painted intricate pattern of lotus flowers ran along the top of the walls and she noticed the same pattern was embroidered on the edge of the tablecloth. A small, clear bowl sat in the middle of each table with a tea light candle floating on the water inside, while round, paper lanterns glowed overhead. The place had a warm, cozy feel, yet at the same time it was light and airy.

She looked back to Castle and found him watching her. His blue eyes were twinkling with the reflected candlelight and a small smile played across his lips.

"How did you find this place?" she asked him.

"My roommate freshman year. He grew up around here and this was his comfort food. Whenever he was stressed, their food was the only thing he'd eat. During midterms and finals he'd order enough food to last a couple days and stuff our tiny fridge full of it."

As he was talking she shifted and her foot accidently brushed against his leg under the table.

His voice faltered for a moment and his eyes flew to hers. A small enigmatic smile graced her lips and she did it again, intentionally this time, before resting both her feet under her own chair. He cleared his throat and continued.

"He was kind of an odd guy and I don't think I ever saw him again after we moved out, but he introduced me to the best Thai place in the city and for that I will be forever grateful."

Silence settled in as they studied the menu and sipped at their water. She could feel him sneaking glances at her over the top of his menu and flashed back to the first case she had, grudgingly, worked with him. The Tisdale case, the one with the sunflowers she'd mentioned earlier, the one that had started everything. They'd sat together at the precinct reading through his crazy fan mail and he'd snuck glances at her over the letters. Then he'd read her like a book and it had thrown her how someone she had just met could see right through her defenses and get straight to the heart of why she'd become a cop.

Kate glanced up and caught him looking at her again. His eyes darted back down to the menu again and she smiled and shook her head. It was amazing how far they'd come.

He'd grown from her annoying shadow to her most trusted friend and partner. And all along the way he'd been stealing her heart, piece by piece, without her realization or consent, until he held more of her than anyone else ever had. Probably more than he even knew.

Castle looked up again and this time she was the one caught staring.

"What?" he asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

But she just smiled and shook her head as the waitress came to take their orders.

…

"So," Castle said leaning forward after the waitress had gone and resting his elbows on the edge of the table, "tell me about the first date you ever went on."

Kate laughed softly at the unexpected request. "What? Why?"

"I'm just curious," he said lightly, "I want to know."

She eyed his suspiciously for a moment.

"This isn't 'research' for Nikki Heat, is it?"

"No, just my personal curiosity about you." She could see in his eyes that he was being serious. He genuinely just wanted to know. She hesitated for a moment longer before giving a tiny shrug of her shoulder and acquiescing.

"I was a sophomore in high school," she started only to pause as his eyes widened in surprise.

"What?" she questioned him.

He shook his head. "That's just later than I was expecting. I thought all the boys would have been after you as soon as that first hint of hormones kicked in."

She could feel the beginnings of a blush forming at his indirect compliment and took a quick sip of water to try to hide it.

"You asked about the first date I ever went on," her eyes sparkled mischievously at him as she spoke, "not the first time I was ever asked out on a date."

He grinned at her over the rim of his own water glass. "Oh?"

"I told you before, orthodontia played a major role in my life during my middle school years and it was _not_ attractive. And then in eighth grade when I finally got the braces off, I had this crazy growth spurt. I was already taller than most of the boys and then suddenly I was towering over them. And I was skinny and really awkward and the teachers made me sit in the back row so that I didn't block anyone's view of the board. It really was not a great time for me." She grimaced at the memories that were coming back to her now but Castle smiled, silently encouraging her to continue.

"When I started high school, the boys began catching up to me in height and things got somewhat better, but I always remembered who had made fun of me for the braces and being so tall, which was pretty much all of them at one point or another, so I always turned them down." She grinned, clearly proud of her younger self.

"So who was it that was finally able to win you over?"

"Freddy Jones. He went to a different middle school so he hadn't witnessed any of those horrors. And he was so cute. He had curly blonde hair and these amazing blue eyes. All my friends were really jealous." She trailed off with a dreamy look in her eyes and a faint smile playing at her lips.

Castle's voice brought her back to the present. "What happened on the date?"

Her smile turned into a frown. "He brought me to watch him play basketball with his friends at the park and he insisted on being on the skins team so that he could take off his shirt in front of me." She rolled her eyes. "He was actually really good and he became captain of the varsity team later, but it was boring just sitting there watching them."

"Not the date you had in mind."

"No, and then it just got worse."

Castle raised his eyebrows, intrigued now.

"At halftime they took a break and he bought hot dogs and lemonade for us to have for lunch, which I told him was a bad idea but-"

"He didn't listen."

"Of course not. It was late September during a stretch of Indian summer and probably almost ninety degrees out and he ate two hot dogs and drank a large lemonade in less than ten minutes." Her nose wrinkled in disgust as she spoke. "Then they started playing again and he lasted about five minutes before throwing up in the middle of the court."

"Ugh."

"Yeah. And his friends all bailed and went to find another court to play on and left me there with him. I had to call his mom to come get him. And when she got there she was fussing over him, calling him her 'poor little baby' and saying things like 'Mommy's going to take care of you and make your tummy feel all better' even though he was pretty much fine by that point."

Castle couldn't help but laugh. "He must have been mortified."

"Yeah," Kate said, laughing softly with him. "He was so embarrassed by it he didn't speak directly to me again until senior year when he actually asked me to sign his year book."

"Wow."

"Yeah."

They were both still chuckling softly when the waitress set their steaming plates in front of them. They both jumped slightly, startled by her sudden presence. Neither had noticed her approach.

…

"So, what about your first date?" Kate asked as she stabbed a piece of pineapple from her stir-fry.

"Her name was Lucy Knox. I was twelve and she was fourteen. Her mother worked on the costumes for some of the productions my mother was in back then, so we'd see each other around and hang out backstage at rehearsals sometimes. I had a crush on her for a while and one day I finally got up the nerve to ask her out and she said yes."

He frowned slightly as he continued. "She was probably just humoring me or she said yes because she had a thing for milkshakes or something, but I didn't question it at the time." He paused for a moment as he speared and ate a forkful of noodles. "We went to the Stardust Diner the next day and it actually went pretty well, so when we went back to the theatre later I tried to kiss her behind one of the racks of costumes."

Kate arched an eyebrow at him. "And what did she do?"

"She let me," Castle said with a proud, self-satisfied smile. "But then she pushed me away and laughed and told me I should try again once I started shaving."

He reached across the table and tried to steal a piece of pineapple off her plate but she swatted his hand away.

"And did you ever try again?"

"Well, I avoided her for a while after that, went to the library or stayed at home instead of hanging out around the theatre. Next time I saw her, a couple months later, she was making out with an usher by the back door during the closing scene so I didn't stick around. And then the show closed and her mother moved on to work for another production and I didn't see her again until about ten years ago."

"What happened ten years ago?"

"She showed up at one of my book signings, asked if I remembered her and gave me her number."

He stopped to take a drink of water and Kate knew it was more for the dramatic pause than actual thirst. He was his mother's son at heart. He smiled at the look she gave him and continued.

"We went to the Stardust Diner again, got caught up on what had happened in our lives and, well, when I kissed her again she didn't laugh or push me away."

She studied him for a moment and scowled.

"You slept with her, didn't you?" she asked accusingly.

Castle shrugged and the corner of his mouth twisted up into a smile of confession. "It was for old time's sake."

She rolled her eyes. "I don't think you can say it was for old time's sake if it never actually happened in the old times."

"Hmm, you may have a point there." He leaned back pretending to contemplate her point and she took advantage of his moment of inattentiveness to steal a noodle from his plate.

"Okay, so you do have a point," he conceded and pushed his plate closer to her, offering her another bite of his meal. "But that was ten years ago and I don't do things like that anymore."

"Things like what?" she asked as she stabbed a piece of chicken and then pushed her own plate to the center of the table next to his.

"One night stands, autographing chests, borrowing police horses," he listed and he was finally able to snag a piece of pineapple off her plate.

"You know, you never have told me the story of your Lady Godiva act," she said with a playful grin.

"Yeah, well, don't get your hopes up. It's probably not as interesting as you think it is."

Kate leaned forward in anticipation and raised an eyebrow when he remained silent.

Castle shook his head and laughed softly. "Oh, no. It's going to take more than a smile and a signature Beckett eyebrow quirk to get me to spill that story."

"More than that to get you to tell a story you just admitted isn't very interesting?"

"Hey, I didn't say it wasn't interesting. I just meant it probably isn't as scandalous as you're imagining."

"Please," she scoffed, "that is a sight I am trying desperately not to imagine."

"Why? Are you scared you'll like it?" he teased with a suggestive smirk.

She laughed and shook her head. "Not even the slightest."

"Yeah, you just keep telling yourself that."

They finished their meal and while Castle settled the check, Kate told him she'd meet him outside and made a quick detour to the restroom.

As she washed her hands, she glanced up at her reflection in the mirror above the sink and was surprised to see that she was smiling. She was having a really great time she realized. She hadn't expected the night to go poorly but after the initial awkwardness she hadn't expected it to go as well as it was. So well that she apparently couldn't stop smiling.

Kate ran a hand through her hair and took a moment to look at herself critically. Her smile was still in place, her cheeks had a light pink rosiness to them and her eyes were shining brightly. She was happy, but more than that, she was relaxed and almost carefree, like for the first time in a long while she'd let go of the weights she usually carried. And she knew that that had everything to do with her partner.

For so long she'd fought her feelings for him and convinced herself that a relationship with him would be a complicated disaster. But being out with him like this tonight just felt right somehow, like it was the natural progression of their relationship. She knew one good date didn't guarantee they'd make it to forever, but maybe if she stopped overanalyzing and they took it a day at a time, they'd have a chance.

…

When Kate stepped outside a few minutes later, Castle was waiting for her on the sidewalk holding two startlingly large ice cream cones.

"Oh god, Castle, I don't think I can eat anything more after that meal."

"Come on, I only got us smalls."

"Those are the smalls?" she asked, gaping at him.

"Yeah." He turned and gestured at the sign on the shop next door. _Carla's_ it said in fancy, looping script, and below that: _The biggest ice cream cones in the Big Apple. _There were a few other people out front with similarly large cones and a few with slightly astonished expressions as they looked at their desserts. A small boy stood beside the door with his arms crossed and a stubbornly determined look on his face as he told his parents that yes, he would be able to eat the whole thing by himself.

Castle grinned as he turned back and handed her one of the cones. "Mocha chip for you, my lady."

She took a bite and almost moaned as the flavors hit her tongue. Sweet, creamy coffee ice cream and quite possibly the best chocolate chips she'd ever tasted.

…

Castle watched, captivated, as her tongue darted out to taste the ice cream. Her eyes lit up and he had to smile at her obvious enjoyment.

"Good?"

She nodded emphatically. "What kind do you have?"

"Chocolate caramel swirl."

He took a bite of his own cone and gestured down the street away from where the car was parked.

"You want to walk a bit?"

She agreed and they set off in companionable silence enjoying the ice cream and each other's company. They walked down the block and then circled back toward the car around a small, tree lined park. As they approached the car Castle found himself wishing they could keep walking. He wasn't quite ready to get back in the car to take her home and bring their night to an end.

He glanced over at Kate trying to think of something else to suggest and saw that she was staring intently at her ice cream, a thoughtful, almost puzzled, expression on her face.

"Is there something wrong with it?" he asked gesturing towards the cone in her hand.

"What?"

"Your ice cream. You're looking at it kinda weirdly."

"Oh, no, it's just… It tastes a little funny. Not bad, just odd. Not what I expected." She lifted it to her nose and sniffed, a few wrinkles appearing across her brow as she contemplated it. "It smells a bit odd, too."

"Let me see," he said nodding toward the dessert in her hand.

Kate raised it closer to him and then with a quick flick of her wrist the ice cream collided with his face. The cold, creamy mocha chip ended up all over his nose and chin and around and in his mouth which was hanging open in shock. He blinked at her and felt a chocolate chip slide off his chin. She was laughing at him. A head back, mouth open, eyes squeezed shut, full body laugh he'd never heard from her before.

When the shock wore off he pulled her now mostly empty cone from her fingers and tossed it in a nearby trash bin along with what was left of his own. When Castle turned back to her, she was leaning against the side of the car for support, grinning at him in amusement and still chuckling softly. He stalked back to her and planted his hands on the car on either side of her hips, effectively trapping her in place. Her grin faded as she looked at him in surprise and from where he was standing, only a few inches away from her, he could see her eyes widen and darken slightly, the golden flecks glinting back at him.

"You think that was funny, Detective?" he asked her, his voice low and audacious despite the fact that the lower half of his face was still covered in sticky, melting ice cream.

"Yeah," she answered, her own voice low and, he was pleased to note, a little breathless.

She barely had time to register that he was moving again before his lips, sweet and cold and slightly sticky, met her own. She gasped and his tongue brushed against hers briefly. She could taste a heady mixture of coffee and chocolate and underneath that, Castle.

He pulled away, but only long enough to run a trail of kisses along her jaw, over her chin and up to her ear before reclaiming her lips with his own again. His hands cradled her hips and she grasped the fabric of his coat, drawing him closer. He sighed into the kiss as his chest pressed against hers, content to stay with her like that for the rest of the night, until a blaring horn and wolf whistles from a passing car jerked them back to reality. They were making out against the side of his car on a street in New York City.

He took a small step back and their eyes met for a brief second before she looked away, a pink flush spreading across her face. He laughed softly as the pink made the shiny splotches of caramel brown stand out more prominently against her skin.

"Look who's got ice cream all over their face now." Her eyes flew back to him and she raised a hand to her cheek, her fingertips coming away covered in the gooey ice cream.

Castle grinned as she stared at him and he took advantage of the situation and quickly kissed her again.

"You're right. It is pretty funny," he said as he pulled back but she didn't move or speak, her green eyes still wide with surprise.

They stood there on the sidewalk, under the glow of the streetlight for several long moments watching each other. He searched the depths of her eyes for some indication of what she was thinking, what she was feeling.

He hadn't intended for the kiss to get so heated but she had kissed him back just as passionately. And now there was no way they could call this a night out between friends, if that had ever really been a possibility. Kissing with no guard to distract and no one to rescue changed things and there would be consequences, good or bad.

His heart pounded and he knew that this was the moment that would make them or break them.

Another moment passed before a small smile graced her lips. She stepped forward and leaned up to press a soft, sweet kiss against his mouth. When she drew back she lingered, their breaths mingling in the few inches separating their lips. She reached up and traced the line of his jaw with her fingers and laughed lightly, breaking the silence that had stretched between them.

"I think we're going to need some napkins," Kate said as she stepped backwards and held up her fingers for him to see. They were covered with melted ice cream and he realized that both their faces were still coated with the sweet stickiness as well.

He laughed too, at the situation and at the feelings of happiness and relief bubbling over inside him. She wasn't telling him off and she wasn't walking away.

"Good thing I grabbed so many," he said as he reached into his pocket for the stack of paper napkins he'd gotten with the ice creams.

He handed her half and they tried as best they could to clean the sticky mess off themselves. They would need soap and water later but for now it would have to do.

Castle threw the used napkins in the trash bin and joined her leaning against the side of the car. He tentatively reached out to take her hand and as he laced his fingers with hers she turned to look at him.

"Are we really doing this?" he asked quietly, "Giving us a chance?"

She took a deep breath then nodded. "I'm in if you're in."

He tugged her against him and kissed her slowly and reverently, with a promise behind every caress. "Oh, I'm in. I am definitely in."

…

Castle turned down her street a little while later and found a miraculously open spot on the street just a short distance from her building. Kate had let him drive this time. It was his car after all, and as much as she enjoyed being behind the wheel, it was also nice to just sit back, feel the wind in her hair and watch the city go by.

He killed the engine and reached to undo his seatbelt but she laid her hand over his on the buckle before he could.

"You need to stay in the car, Castle."

_If you get out of the car you're going to come up to my apartment and if you come up to my apartment…_

He looked in her eyes and seemed to be able to tell exactly what she was thinking. He nodded and gave her an understanding smile that to her surprise lacked all trace of smugness.

"I had a really good time tonight, Kate," he told her, his blue eyes shining warmly, and he flipped his hand so that they were palm to palm and he could thread his fingers with hers.

"Me too," she whispered and she leaned over and pressed her lips to his. She'd meant it to be a quick kiss goodnight but that intention flew out of her mind the moment his tongue brushed against her bottom lip. She groaned softly and let him deepen the kiss, her hand threading through his hair as she held him to her. He still tasted like chocolate. It was intoxicating.

His hand cupped her face, his thumb brushing across her cheekbone in a sweet caress that was almost at odds with the things his mouth was doing to her and somewhere in the back of her mind she thought maybe him coming up to her apartment wouldn't be such a bad idea after all.

Even as she thought it she could feel the pressure of him on her lips receding. He pulled away slowly, his eyes still closed and took a deep, calming breath. She leaned her head into his warm palm against her cheek and sighed softly, contently.

His eyes fluttered open and he smiled at her, a slow, sweet smile she liked to believe he reserved just for her. When he spoke his voice was low and gentle.

"I'd like to do this again sometime… All of it," he clarified, as he ran his thumb over the swell of her lower lip, "not just the finally being able to kiss you and touch you part."

"I'd like that, too," she whispered and reluctantly pulled away back to her own side of the car.

"What are you doing tomorrow night?"

Kate shrugged. "I might be solving a murder or I might be going on another date with this guy I know."

He grinned. "Another date, huh? This guy must be pretty special."

"Yeah, he is," she said softly as she climbed out of the car. She leaned into the back and grabbed the sunflower that had somehow survived the night on the backseat and when she stood, she held his gaze for a moment before she spoke again. "We've only been on one date so far but I think I've already fallen for him."

A look of shocked disbelief settled on his face and the corners of her mouth quirked up into a smile.

"Goodnight, Castle," she said and headed for her apartment. As she opened the front door of her building, she turned back to look at him. He was sitting in the car and watching her, a wide smile of utter delight stretched across his face. She felt her own smile grow in response and wondered if perhaps she had just been on her last first date.

* * *

><p>Thanks for reading! Thoughts? Let me know.<p>

I don't know where all this fluffiness from but I had a lot of fun writing this one. I made up the restaurant and ice cream place but the Stardust Diner is a real place. I ate there on one of my first visits to NYC and I've remembered it ever since.


	6. A Foggy Day In London Town

_It's been awhile but I still don't own _Castle_ and I don't own the song. _

Song: "A Foggy Day (In London Town)" - Michael Bublé

* * *

><p>Of all the times and places Richard Castle had imagined he might kiss Kate Beckett again, he never thought it would actually happen on a Thursday afternoon, in the precinct elevator, right before he needed to get on a plane and fly to another continent.<p>

But much to his surprise, and hers as well, that's how it did happen.

The past few weeks had been a whirlwind for Beckett's whole team. It seemed like every time they closed a case the phone would be ringing about another body before the ink was even dry on the paperwork for the last. Castle had been there with them for all the dead ends, early morning crime scenes and late night brain storming sessions, except for when Beckett persuaded him to leave, reminding him that he had a daughter at home and, lucky for him, she was a teenager who actually liked to spend time with her father.

In the midst of it all Castle had also been gearing up for a brief publicity tour in London to promote _Heat Rises _and the upcoming release of the _Heat Wave _movie. The publishers were convinced it was a prime opportunity to lock in new readers and increase his exposure in the British media and when Gina and Paula double-teamed him it was impossible to say no. They had been adamant and accused him of neglecting his duties as an author while he was out playing pretend with the real cops. And while he hated to admit it, they had a point. Ever since he started shadowing Beckett and her team he had refused to do publicity outside of New York City.

So he had given in and agreed and despite his initial reluctance he found that he was looking forward to the trip. It was only for a few days and London was his second favorite city in the world. It was impossible not to feel inspired walking along the same history filled streets that so many of the literary greats and so many characters, both real and fictional, had walked before him.

Or at least he had been looking forward to his visit. But that was before the elevator incident on Thursday.

It had all started earlier in the week when after a long day of running in circles and getting nowhere with the investigation he had found Beckett glaring at the murder board looking like she was about three seconds away from snapping the marker in half. From that moment he was determined to make her smile before the night was through. At the very least he could save the marker and stop it from exploding all over her shirt which was guaranteed to only make things worse.

So he had adopted a ridiculously exaggerated British accent, an odd mix of the refined, proper Queen's English of an Oxford professor and the cockney slang of an old-fashioned London fishmonger, and attempted to coax her away from the board for some dinner. She had not been amused at first but an hour later she had a full stomach, a workable theory and a smile twitching the corners of her mouth.

Mission accomplished.

For the next few days he had brought that accent back whenever he felt the stressed out detectives could use a touch of levity. It had been getting mixed results and when he walked into the precinct on Thursday morning and decided he would throw some Shakespeare into the mix, he wasn't sure if Beckett was going to continue to roll her eyes at him while trying to hide her smile or if she was going to threaten to shoot him if he didn't stop immediately.

Fortunately, she chose the eye rolling and he spent the rest of the morning working Shakespeare quotes into the conversation every chance he had. Thanks to his mother and her plays he had quite an extensive arsenal to choose from. He even managed to get a few quickly suppressed smiles out of Beckett for his efforts. Ryan and Esposito's reactions had been a bit odd, though. Every time he quoted the bard Ryan scowled and Esposito smirked at his partner. He had no idea what that was all about.

-o-

"I still think it was the neighbor, Barlovski," Castle said as he and Beckett walked back into the precinct early Thursday afternoon. They had been out interviewing the victim's colleagues but their questions hadn't uncovered anything useful. "He has the best motive and the most to gain from Randolph's death. Plus, he's super creepy. And what was with his eyebrows? There's no way that color was natural."

"I know," Beckett agreed, "but I can't arrest someone just because they have a motive and they're creepy. There's absolutely no evidence to tie him to the crime."

"True, but the man has a Ph.D. in Electrical Engineering and Computer Science from MIT. It is entirely possible that he built a robot to carry out his villainous deed and programmed it to self-destruct after it had completed its mission."

A passing officer gave Beckett an incredulous look and she just shook her head in response. It had been awhile since Castle had spouted one of his far-fetched theories and he seemed to be making up for it big-time now.

"It self-destructed without leaving behind one piece of evidence that it had ever even existed?" she asked skeptically as they headed toward the elevator.

"Yes! I'm telling you, the man is an evil genius."

"Well, in that case, I guess he's going to get away with it. I should just stop investigating and go tell the Captain that I found the killer but we can't arrest him because he plotted the perfect murder via robot assassin and we're never going to find enough evidence for a conviction," she said as they stepped into the elevator, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

She pressed the button for their floor and turned around to face him, crossing her arms over her chest and rolling her eyes.

"Come on, Castle, this is ridiculous, even for you."

"Teach not thy lip such scorn, for it was made for kissing, lady, not for such contempt."

He quickly clamped his mouth shut when he realized what he had just said and looked at her with wide eyes. He hadn't really meant to say it, not out loud at least, but it was out there now and there was no getting it back.

For a split second she looked surprised but in the next instant she'd quirked an eyebrow and was watching him through narrowed eyes. She took a half step closer to him, a dangerous glint in her eye as if she was daring him to act on his borrowed words.

"If this were play'd upon a stage now, I could condemn it as an improbable fiction."

He felt his mouth drop open in surprise as she came back with a quote of her own.

"What?" she asked, her lips curling into a self-satisfied smirk at the look of surprise on his face. "You think you're the only one around here who knows some Shakespeare?"

She had just denounced his theory with an eye roll and Shakespeare. How was it possible that she was so surprising and so amazing and so beautiful all the time?

Before he was even completely aware that he was moving, he had taken a step to close the space between them and tangled his fingers in the silky curls at the back of her head. And then he lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers, fully intent on kissing that smirk right off her face.

She gasped and he took advantage of the opportunity to deepen the kiss, a hand landing on her waist as hers grasped his jacket to steady herself. His head spun at the taste of her, just like he remembered but still an entirely new and intoxicating experience, and he swore he could feel the floor moving beneath them. (It wasn't until hours later when he was somewhere over the Atlantic anxiously fidgeting in his first class seat that he remembered that they had been in the elevator and realized that the floor actually had been moving beneath them.)

She pulled away from him before he was able to fully process exactly what was happening and took a step back just as the elevator came to a halt and the doors slid open.

She stared at him, her eyes wide, lips slightly parted and cheeks flushed, as she took a backwards step out of the elevator. He stayed where he was, unable to make himself move and unable to get his mind passed the fact that he had finally kissed her again and she hadn't pushed him away or threatened him with bodily harm. He had kissed her and she had kissed him back.

The elevator doors started to close again just as her phone rang. He stuck an arm out to stop them and she answered but neither of them broke their gaze.

"Beckett," she answered, her voice wavering a bit. "Yeah, ok, I'll be right there."

"They're bringing the brother in," she explained as she slipped the phone back into her pocket. "I have to go."

He finally tore his eyes away from hers to glance down at his watch._ Damn, how had it gotten to be that late already?_ He had to get his bag from home and get to the airport if he was going to make his flight.

"Me too."

She nodded once, slowly, and took a few steps backward, eyeing him uncertainly. "Have a good trip," she told him stiffly and gave him a short, tight smile before turning away abruptly and heading toward the interrogation rooms.

"Thanks," he said faintly as he watched her walk away, his feet rooted to the spot in the elevator still in shock. He finally let the elevator doors close and right before they shut he caught a glimpse of her as she turned to look back at him, her expression unreadable.

-o-

It had only been a day and a half since then, but the traveling, time change and jet lag made it feel like a week, the longest week of his life. He couldn't stop thinking about her, couldn't stop thinking about the kiss, couldn't stop wondering if she was thinking about it.

For the first time ever walking into the Great Court of the British Museum, beneath its bright ceiling of triangle and diamond glass, had failed to excite and inspire him. Within the walls of the museum were centuries upon centuries of history and culture, stories of human lives, of triumph and downfall, love and loss.

On his previous visits to London he had spent entire afternoons wandering through the collections, getting lost in the stories and letting his imagination run wild, creating tales about unknown artists and ordinary people and what their lives may have been like, marveling at how similar or different they were from him and wondering about what they loved and feared and what they dreamed.

But today it was no use. He had been staring at the same clay tablet covered in the odd little wedge shapes of cuneiform writing for the past twenty minutes, unaware of the flow of visitors moving around him, thinking only about what he loved and dreamed of.

But she was thousands of miles away in New York City and what he feared the most right now was rejection. That when he got back she would tell him the kiss had been a mistake, that she didn't feel that way about him and she wanted to just stay friends and work partners.

He desperately wanted to call her, to talk to her and find out what she was thinking. The not knowing was killing him but every time he pulled his phone out his conscience told him that that was a conversation they should have in person. Whatever the outcome, they owed each other that much at least.

He sighed and finally moved from his spot, making his way back through the maze of rooms to the Great Court. The museum wasn't going to provide a distraction or an escape from his thoughts today. He might as well head back to his hotel and try to rest for a bit. He hadn't slept at all on the plane and, despite being in one of the nicest hotels in London, he had tossed and turned for hours last night before finally falling asleep.

He was a mess. He should have just gotten off that elevator, stayed in New York, taken a later flight. He had a book signing event this evening and instead of meeting a brilliant and charming author, his fans were going to meet an exhausted and pathetically lovesick man. Definitely not the impression he wanted to be making.

He walked outside and pulled his jacket tighter around him and shoved his hands in the pockets, trying to ward off the chill that would inevitably sink in. Mist hung over the city and there was no sun shining through the thick gray clouds to burn it off. He walked around a group of shouting and laughing school children and surveyed the courtyard as he walked down the steps. There was a tour group huddle off to one side and only a few other visitors milling about. The cool, damp, gray weather had sent most people indoors.

He almost tripped down the last step when his eyes landed on the familiar form of a tall, slender woman in a long, red coat standing under a lamp post. It felt like his heart skipped several beats. It couldn't be her. She couldn't be here. She was in New York. His mind was clearly playing tricks on him, the jet lag and lack of sleep catching up with him.

But still his feet propelled him toward her, drawn forward by some inexplicable force. As he drew closer he could have sworn he felt his heart actually stop. It really was her.

She was really there, leaning against the base of the lamp post, her arms crossed in front of her, watching the entrance of the museum. She hadn't spotted him when he circled around the throng of children but when she shifted her gaze as he approached and their eyes finally connected, a smile spread slowly across her face and the whole day suddenly appeared much brighter.

She pushed off the concrete base and moved toward him.

"What…? How….?" he choked out, unable to form complete, coherent sentences. He was so stunned that she was actually there, standing in front of him, that all he could do was stammer the beginnings of his questions.

Her eyes sparkled with amusement but her smile was soft, warm… affectionate. He had caught glimpses of it in the past but never before had she looked at him with those emotions displayed so openly on her face.

"After you left, we finally caught a break and solved the case," she told him, answering the question he hadn't managed to ask. "We'd maxed out our overtime the last few weeks so the Captain made us take a few days off."

He nodded and let her continue, not yet daring to ask why she had decided a trip to London was the best way to spend those days.

"I talked to Alexis and she told me what hotel you're staying at and when I got here this morning I talked to the concierge. He said you had mentioned you were going to the British Museum and, well, here we are." She ended with a nonchalant shrug, acting as if everything she had done wasn't anything out of the ordinary.

But it was. It was extraordinary.

"You came all this way," he said softly, amazed and he could have sworn he saw her face flush a bit. He noticed that the fine mist had gathered as tiny droplets in her hair and on the shoulders of her coat and it shimmered slightly when she shrugged, adding an ethereal feel to the dream-like turn the day had taken.

"London suddenly seemed like the place to be," she told him cryptically and for a moment they just stood there watching each other.

He had wanted so badly to see her and talk to her but now that she was standing right in front of him he had no idea what to say or how to broach the subject.

Amusement flared in her eyes again as he continued to stare at her in silent disbelief. She bit her lip seeming to consider something briefly before stepping closer to him.

"So," she said as she stopped with just a few inches of space remaining between them, "are you going to kiss me or do I need to call the hotel and tell them I'll be needing that separate room after all?"

Her words snapped him out of his daze, shocked him into action.

"Don't you dare," he told her, his voice so low it was almost a growl.

She raised an eyebrow at him and he saw it again, that challenging glint he had seen shining in her eyes in the elevator and this time he was positive she was daring him to move.

He swiftly closed the remaining distance between them, wrapping an arm around her waist and threading his fingers through her hair, pulling her against him. He leaned in to kiss her and found her meeting him halfway. Their lips met for the third time and the world around them melted away. The fog and the chilling dampness disappeared and all he could feel was the heat of her mouth and the warmth of her body against his. Her arms wound around his neck and his last thought before he lost all cognitive ability was that of all the treasures the museum behind them contained, none of them could hold a candle to this woman in his arms.

_-o-o-o-_

"_**For suddenly I saw you there,  
>And in a foggy London town the sun was shining everywhere."<strong>_

_-o-o-o-_

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><p><em>Thanks for reading!<em>

_This one had been sitting on my computer 90% complete for many months but something always bugged me about it so I never finished it until a recent early morning trip to drop someone off at the airport inspired me to give it another go. __It's been a long time coming so please let me know what you think. I'd really appreciate hearing from you!_

_Also, I want to acknowledge that there are many wonderful versions of this song but my favorite, and the one that's on my iPod, is by Michael Bublé's which is why I credited it to him. _

_And last but not least, remember to vote for Castle and Nathan Fillion for the People's Choice Awards! _


	7. Change of Time

And this installment's song is …"Change of Time" by Josh Ritter. I don't own the song and I don't own _Castle_. Just borrowing them for inspiration.

So, you probably can't see moonlight shining through windows in New York City but for this story let's just pretend that you can.

* * *

><p><em>-o-o-o-<br>I had a dream last night  
>And when I opened my eyes<br>Your shoulder blade, your spine  
>Were shorelines in the moonlight<br>-o-o-o-_

He's not sure what it is that wakes him but something pulls him out of his dreams and back to consciousness. He can sense without opening his eyes that it's still the middle of the night. It's the quiet stillness and the slight chill in the air that tell him morning has not yet arrived.

He sighs and keeps his eyes firmly shut, trying to hold onto the visions in his head. He was dreaming of her again, as always, but the specifics of the dream are already slipping away. He remembers the sea and the stars, swimming and an old fashioned wooden-hulled ship.

And Kate, there beside him, floating in the water, a small secretive smile on her lips, the starlight reflected in the green depths of her eyes and the pale skin of her shoulders glistening and glowing in the soft light.

As the last remnants of the fog of sleep clear his mind it dawns on him that he's not in his own bed. This place he's in is new but there is still something familiar about it and in an instant, images burst into his mind- Kate and him, all lips and hands, skin and heat and _yes _… finally. They're things he has dreamt of before but the images are so vivid, encompassing all his senses, that they can't possibly be anything other than real memories.

His eyes snap open, clear and awake, and the sight that greets him is so perfect he's ready to believe this is all just some elaborate dream within a dream scenario. Kate is there on the other side of the bed, her chestnut waves tumbling over the pillow and the creamy skin of her back dusted with moonlight where the sheet has slipped to her waist.

He can't help but move closer as his eyes drink her in. Strong muscles under soft, smooth skin, the length of her spine, the ridge of her shoulder blade and that spot just below her ear he now knows will make her moan his name and dig her nails into his skin.

He leans forward and gently presses his lips to that spot now, holding his breath as he waits for a reaction from her, but she doesn't stir and her breathing remains deep and even. He slowly pulls back and as his eyes drift over her he notices for the first time a tiny birthmark at the top of her shoulder blade.

It's more of a freckle really and he reaches out to brush his thumb over her skin there, marveling at the fact that although he already knows her so well, there is still a whole world of things to learn about Kate Beckett and he is more than willing to spend the rest of his life trying to discover as many of them as he can. And if last night was any indication, there is a pretty good chance she will let him.

The thought propels him forward again and he presses gentle, feather-light kisses up the line of her scapula ending at that newly discovered freckle before she softly sighs and rolls over to face him. Her eyes are vivid green when she opens them and blinks at him, a small content smile curving her lips.

"Sorry," he whispers, "I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's okay," she replies quietly, her fingers reaching out to trace the line of his jaw. "It's a good way to wake up."

"I'll keep that in mind." He dips his head to press a kiss to the pulse point of her wrist and their eyes connect for a moment in an intense gaze that chases away any signs of sleepiness before she leans in and captures his lips in a lingering kiss full of tenderness and promise.

When they pull away they're both a little breathless and he admires the way the moonlight dances over her hair and face now, illuminating her features like some mythical siren.

"I'm really here, aren't I?" he asks suddenly, remembering all the times he has dreamt of this only to have it all crumble and slip away and wake up alone in his own bed once again. "I'm not dreaming, am I? Because this feels a lot like a dream."

She smiles softly at him but there's a glint of mischief in her eyes as her hand slips under the sheet and her fingers drift lightly over his side before snatching a bit of skin between her thumb and forefinger.

"Ow! Apples!" he exclaims, jerking backwards and out of her reach. "What was that for?"

She laughs at him, amusement sparkling in her eyes.

"I pinched you to prove you aren't dreaming," she explains and grabs his arm to pull him back to her, closing the space between them.

He pouts even as he wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her against him. "It hurt."

"Sorry, but that was kind of the point," she says and traces her thumb over the curve of his lower lip, wiping away all thoughts of complaint from his mind.

Her finger is warm and soft and her touch makes his lip tingle, makes him want to feel more of her skin against his mouth again. It would only take the slightest of movements to trap her thumb between his lips and from there he could keep going over her palm, across her wrist, up the length of her arm and on to the rest of her. But for now he is content to just stay still and watch her.

He sighs softly and looks at the woman before him, this beautiful, extraordinary woman who has enchanted him since day one, and despite the lingering stinging sensation in his pinched skin he still can't quite believe that he is really here with her in his arms. It seems too good to be true.

"I'm really here, in your bed, with you, _naked_, and last night really happened?"

There's still a note of amazed disbelief in his voice and she smiles at him, her eyes shining with affection and amusement. Her fingers trace his jaw again before her hand settles on his chest, right beside his heart.

"Yeah, it's all real. Why is it so hard to believe?"

"I've dreamt of this for so long," he confesses and her eyebrow arches as his hand slides down her side to rest at her hip. "Not _this_," he says and his grasp on her tightens momentarily to emphasize the word, "well, not just _this_, but being with you and falling asleep and waking up beside you. All that… everything."

His voice has turned serious and the amusement fades from her eyes as she listens to him continue.

"There were times when I thought this would never happen, that it would only ever be a dream."

She dips her head, breaking eye contact and her gaze falls on her hand resting on his chest.

"I'm sorry it took me so long…" she starts to say, her voice tinged with regret, a quiet apology, but he shakes his head and runs his fingers through her hair, the silky waves shimmering in the glowing light filtering through the window. His hand cups her cheek, directing her eyes back up to meet his.

"Don't," he whispers, his thumb sweeping over her cheekbone in a light caress soothing away her worry. "It doesn't matter how we got here or how long it took to get here, it just matters that we're here now."

Her hand comes up to cover his against her cheek and the look in her eyes, the depth of the emotion shining there, makes his chest feel tight, breathless. She leans into him, her lips gliding over his in a slow, sweet kiss.

When she pulls away several moments later, she looks at him through narrowed eyes, one corner of her mouth turning up. "You can be kind of sappy sometimes, you know."

He pulls her to him again, his palm warm as it slides over the smooth line of her back, settling low, just above the base of her spine. "You secretly love it," he whispers against her lips.

She lets out half a snort of laughter, which he thinks is adorable but he'll refrain from admitting that to her right now. "Yeah, keep dreaming," she tells him and rolls her eyes. It's a move that's wholly familiar yet entirely new because she's never rolled her eyes at him while lying in bed beside him covered only by the thin cotton sheet.

"I'm not dreaming. In my dreams you _never_ call me sappy." His voice is low, full of suggestion, and he sees a spark of interest cross her face as her eyes darken.

"So," she says slowly, drawing out the word as her fingers start sliding down the center of his chest, "what _do_ I do in these dreams of yours?"

He sucks in a quick, sharp breath when her nails glide over his stomach and her lips curve up in a slow, enticing grin. His hand reaches down to intercept her wandering digits and he rolls, pinning her hand above her head and bracing himself over her. Her eyes are wide with surprise and dark with desire as she looks up at him before his lips fall on the tantalizing skin of her neck and she moans softly as he blazes a trail up to her ear.

"You do all sorts of things," he whispers roughly, "but this is a good place to start."

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading, extra-special- thanks for everyone who has reviewed in the past and advance-extra-special-thanks for everyone who leaves a review right now (hint, hint). <em>


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